


you know how to find me

by threefourthstime



Category: Pocket Monsters: Gold & Silver & Crystal | Pokemon Gold Silver Crystal Versions, Twitch Plays Pokemon (Let's Play)
Genre: Ambiguous Character Death, Gen, Metaphysical Violence, Possession, Temporary Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-10
Updated: 2016-04-10
Packaged: 2018-06-01 08:59:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,372
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6511633
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/threefourthstime/pseuds/threefourthstime
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Your fate ends here.<br/>(The one with the hopeful ending.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. forever

**Author's Note:**

> something big went down at the end of Anniversary Crystal, and i hate-love that we'll never be able to say what.
> 
> went ahead and tagged this as main g/s/c because, well, it kinda is--but i'm not sure how comprehensible this will be to anyone outside Current TPP Fandom? if you're interested in rejoining this mess, [i've got a post for that!](http://threefourthstime.tumblr.com/post/139561274419/so-like-i-was-vaguely-aware-of-tpp-when-it)
> 
> anyway! anyway, yeah

“Evan,” says Amber one day, as they look out onto the sea. “I assume the Voices have shared my story, or what they know of it.”

“About...you and the others?” 

Evan looks at the Aerodactyl, perched on the railing. It nods. “And I expect, given...everything...that they’ve paid especial attention to the Kanto side of things.”

“Yeah.” He nods, pacing back and forth on the pier. “Why?”

“Tell me how they think of us,” says Amber.

Evan has to think about it. He frowns. ( _ hey are you feeling jealous there buddy, it’s time for the talk evan, yeah see when a fossil and another fossil hate each other very much, guys seriously notlikethis, dude i’ve been a dome fan forever what makes you think now will change my mind, this is because there’s no amber emote yet isn’t it kappa) _

“Well,” he says. “It’s kinda weird? Like they say they started with Helix, which probably means they’re playing favorites...and they go back and forth a  _ lot _ ...but, it’s mostly about Helix and Dome?” A shrug. I mean. They talk about you-you, but they don’t really...talk about...you.”

Amber looks at him, seems to nod. “Long ago--when neither humans nor Pokémon yet existed--we fought...far more harshly than in the days the Voices will be familiar with. To put things on familiar terms, our wars tore the worlds apart; many of the landmarks you know are a result of those wars, whether geographically or otherwise. No living creatures could have survived.”

Evan curls his fingers around the railing. He can think of lots of things to say, but no good reason to say them.

“Do you know why there are many of us,” it continues, “rather than us all sharing the same aspects? Or even the legendary birds, the dogs--why there is always more than one? I may also be biased, of course--” it chuckles--“for, after all, I am the patron of balance. But long ago, we were all much more...closely familiar with each other.

“We divided our powers,” says Amber, “because their entirety would be too much for one alone; because we knew a world under the rule of only one god might quickly grow unjust, or unlistening--or, we supposed, face any number of difficulties. We were not used to being separate beings, at the time.” It shakes its head. “I imagine we all thought the split caused more trouble than it was worth.”

“It feels like you’re getting ready to say  _ but _ ,” says Evan.

Amber gives something reminiscent of a smile. “--But, as I mentioned earlier. A world in which we had not split would be...very different, I imagine.” Its eyes dim as it glances onto the horizon. “Quite a bit has changed, since the world’s creation. There are many that would argue the changes, but I would say they were for the better.”

Then Amber shakes out its wings. “Now,” it says, “I think we still have some training to do?”

Evan raises an eyebrow. “Is that the end of the story?”

It flies over to him, flapping comfortably by his shoulder. “Well, I certainly hope not,” it says. “I’ll let you know if it continues.”

 

* * *

 

While Hoenn’s still putting up its final fight, while a girl with a spirit like fire throws herself with increasing desperation at the Elite Four, there comes a knock at Bill’s door. 

Oak skips the formalities; he’s here on business. He knows, apart from the more  _ notorious  _ functions of the PC, that within its code exists something like a virtual world. What would it take, he asks, to get a world like that to stand on its own?

As he almost expects, Oak doesn’t get his hands on the code until Bill’s not alive to stop him. The delay doesn’t matter, though. Oak cobbles together his own replica, inserts himself into this pocket reality, and calls out to the Voices. They’ll assume it’s just a new challenge, a new rambling adventure; how could they refuse? He almost thinks he’s succeeded, that he’s trapped them forever--and then they stumble across the Battle Tent.

It’s soon afterwards that the worlds start falling apart.

\--Maybe, thinks Abe, it’s too much time spent in the glitches’ territory. Maybe it’s just that, being a virtual member of a virtual world, he’s bound to notice when something goes wrong. (In the code, maybe.) Whatever the case--not like he can get anyone to confirm the hypotheses--whatever the case he can  _ feel  _ it when something surfaces in (G)oldenrod and begins tearing at the thin strings holding the universe together. He’s got monitors scattered around Indigo and Cerulean, so the news comes back to him when the newest Host is held up by a creature in a girl’s skin. He has Baba on speed-dial and would have AJ, too, if the godslayer had any idea what compromise was, and he has to get a new map because the old one’s stained black with every X placed for glitch sightings, and--

And--

Maybe he’d have things under control, if Growleerzard hadn’t become one of them. If the Leech King hadn’t run out of time. If Dome were here, or hell, if Sam and Xsar were here, or even if they’d managed to evolve that  _ damn  _ Kakuna--

Last time he saw this place, there wasn’t a mural. Abe runs a hand across it, lets his fingertips rest over the last word.  _ Your fate ends here. _

He waits.


	2. and ever and ever and ever and ever and--

In theory, at least, the Voices know where they’re going.

Over the last few months Evan’s gotten used to that much. There are certain things that take them by surprise--he thinks back to Azure, way back when--but at least they know where they are half the time, even when Evan doesn’t. They know almost every inch of Kanto and Johto, like they’ve walked across it for thousands of years. Evan finds himself stumbling through Mt. Silver in almost total darkness, and yet the Voices are keeping track by the dusty, discarded items left by past trainers,  _ okay guys we’re at 12, don’t listen to him we’re at 7, spam right for 10 _ . For most things they talk like they’ve done it before. The few areas they don’t know--recent renovations, mostly--make them shout loud enough to give him a headache, and it’s weird but he can  _ feel  _ them reaching for his vision as if to take pictures, and while most of them are having him wander around the place a few of them are making maps.

Now--

Now he’s approaching a mural, lit by an unearthly light. And in front of the mural is a boy.

His hands are in his pockets. He’s standing still, save for the heave of his chest. There’s a fresh cut still bleeding on his cheek--from a rock or something, Evan thinks distantly, happened to him plenty of times standing too close to a battle--and there’s something  _ familiar  _ about him and his eyes are grayed over, the whites to the pupils hidden by flickering mist. 

“So,” says Abe. “You brought it with you.”

 

* * *

 

There's an email open on Professor Oak's computer. It's from Professor Elm, signed with a little happy face at the bottom.

"--never imagined it would come to this," Oak is saying, slumped in the chair, head in his hands. "I never pictured, of all the clichés I could fall prey to--being outplayed by my own creations--"

( _ u srs what kind of "reward" is this did you hear that guys the glitches are players onehand _ )

Without warning, Oak slams a hand down on the table, and Evan flinches. "I can't believe I'm saying this, either," says Oak, "but you and your... _ Voices _ \--may still have the power to stop that  _ thing _ , if you hurry about it."

Tux makes an inquisitive noise at Evan's side. When Evan rests his hand on his head he goes quiet.

"After all," Oak mutters, "you've certainly surprised me before."

 

* * *

 

“I--what?” says Evan, taking a step back.

Abe sighs. He looks--really tired, Evan can’t help but think--shadows under his eyes and all. Like in those three months he hasn’t stopped moving once. “Come on,” he says. “It’s kind of hard to miss, isn’t it? All those glitches that have happened to you since day one, almost like they’ve been following you around somehow?”

Evan blinks. “Look. Honestly, I don’t get what you’re so insistent about, but if you’re mad I stole all your titles I’m sorry--”

It’s Abe’s turn to look incredulous. “The  _ titles _ \--what, being Champion? Completing the Pokédex? How much do you think I ever wanted those in the first place?” He presses one hand against his temples. “How about you try asking the Voices something for me, real quick? How often do they ever end up with the grass starter?”

( _ tbf who ever chooses the grass starter lmao rip growleerzard again sorry oh ***--) _

“Uh, like twice? Why?”

“And how often do those starters make it to the Hall of Fame?”

“Uh--”

( _ hey cmon what about sceptile babyrage wait guys GUYS) _

“Wait,” says Evan, “you’re blaming  _ Tux  _ for all this? Seriously? You think he’s--you’re here because--”

 

* * *

 

OLDEN.

That’s what they’ve taken to calling it, though his memories of  _ why  _ are hazy at best. Something about a bug catcher, something about a girl--Tux standing between him and another Venusaur protectively, eyes flashing--something about a name.

Baba warns him about it, in a dream. AJ doesn’t bring it up, but there’s a questioning in his eyes after Evan finally wins against him, maybe because Evan can’t quite recall the last thirty seconds of their fight. The Voices cast its name onto a Ledian in something like a warding ritual, and lock the Ledian up deep in the PC ( _ guys does that mean we won wutface _ ). Oak doesn’t deign to call it more than  _ that thing _ , or once, “the glitches,” in the plural. And Red…

Evan’s barely on his way into the mountain when someone bumps into him and he nearly falls down for the thousandth time that day. The someone’s mouth is drawn into a thin, stormy line; his eyes meet Evan’s and take a moment before flashing like lightning. There’s not much fanfare--just a battle, making the most of a few items and missed moves. ( _ we didn’t raise you to be a cheater! _ ) It’s over quickly, and in the aftermath the two of them stare.

And Evan's not sure why he does it, but before Red can run he catches him by the arm--

(can't believe he still wouldn't listen he knows what it's like for the world to end he knows what they’re like and he still, helix fucking help me--can't believe first try again you're losing your touch-- _ can't he tell this is going to kill him? _ )

Red wrenches his arm away, eyes wide like he's been stabbed. Evan pushes through his own shock and the Voices' ( _ wait i just got here why is red outside who said that oh this again? dragonslayer? slayed bort _ ) and manages to say, "Uh, sorry...?"

The other trainer gives him a curious look, and the air sort of curls tighter around him, and when Evan blinks he's already gone.

 

* * *

 

“I guess that means you won’t just give up, then?” says Abe.

“ _ No _ , are you insane? You can’t just expect me to get rid of someone who’s saved my ass a billion times! Just because  _ you _ \--”

Evan cuts himself short, but too late. Abe flinches, and his hand’s already going for his bag, and there’s the flash and growl of a Pokéball splitting open.

“Fine,” says Abe. “ _ Fine! _ Slowbro--!”

( _ here we go pogchamp again? rip amber what’s that behind abe pogchamp pogchamp people are just gonna spam items throw battle until we can dump revives failfish no there’s no going back now that we’re here! this is it guys--) _

Evan feels something in the air  _ lurch,  _ something that tastes like battery acid, something that weaves in around his heart and twists. The Voices, as usual, have gotten distracted from him, focusing instead on Kenya first and then Fox, though they occasionally go digging about in his bag for potions. And in the half-freedom from the Voices’ control and in the charged, burning air of Mt. Silver, he remembers the control of something  _ else; _

(Sorry, but Evan’s a bit preoccupied right now. Is there something you wanted to tell him? Don’t worry, I’ll make certain he gets the message.)

he remembers falling to his knees, remembers not-Azure-never-really-Azure leaning over him and taking one of his hands in its with a  _ smile _ ;

(Can you guess what strikes me the most about your journey, Evan? Can you guess the funniest thing? All this time, you and your  _ Voices  _ have been so busy mourning Azure--)

he remembers Spooks and another trainer’s lost Crobat, and Tux, and something like Tux distorted and flickering and grinning, and the not-a-Trainer wearing his face--

 

* * *

 

(They never thought to mourn  _ you _ , now, did they?)

 

* * *

 

Fox scores the last hit. Drowned in the crackle of electricity, the cavern goes strangely still. Abe recalls Axemon before he can hit the ground and watches the other Trainer closely.

There’s a certain finality to the silence between them. There’s a certain finality, too, to the way the world tears itself apart.

It’s sudden, like the destruction couldn’t hold itself back any longer. The wall beneath the mural goes first, crumpling in on itself like paper, and an earthquake starts eating at the steps, rocks snapping loose from the ceiling but vanishing noiselessly into an abrupt, magnetic, all-encompassing darkness.

And Evan drops to the floor and laughs. It’s a sound like fracturing, like slamming your elbow into a glass that reads  _ do not break _ . He hides his face in his hands and laughs and laughs but Abe can still see the tears at the corners of his eyes and how, in the cavern’s unsteady light, they seem almost black-- _ it’s not the lighting  _ why does he keep lying to himself how didn’t he realize--

“You thought it was  _ him _ ?” Evan gasps out. “Man, none of us are any good at seeing the obvious, are we!” (Abe takes a step back, only to realize the ground behind him has torn itself into emptiness.) “Gee, I wonder where OLDEN could possibly be hiding! The Venusaur, maybe? Well it’s definitely not that Host of theirs it’s not like he died or anything  _ oh, wait! _ ” There’s something like a grin on his face. “ _ They didn’t even notice! _ ”

“Evan,” says Abe, fighting to keep his voice steady. “Don’t. Whatever it’s telling you, you can’t trust it--”

“Yeah?” he says. Fox tries to nuzzle at his hand, but Evan pushes the Jolteon away, recalling it with a flash. “Then who am I supposed to trust at this point,  _ them? _ ” He drags himself to his feet. “I’m sick of this! I’m sick of watching them pretend everything’s fine, I’m sick of them ignoring how this is  _ supposed  _ to go, I’m sick of them stepping all over the rules! C’mon,” he adds, voice mocking, “it’s kinda hard to miss! Don’t you know how this works?”

“Evan--”

“They’ve been playing this game forever and they keep breaking it, and they’re surprised when someone tries to put it back how it started. But I’d take nothing over  _ this! _ ” He gestures widely to the cavern, which aside from where he and Abe are standing has crumbled into void. “I’m gonna make it so nobody can play. Then at least me and Azure wouldn’t’ve--” He falters. “Azure wouldn’t--”

The ground fragments beneath him, and he stumbles and crashes among the rocks, fingers scrambling for a handhold. Abe freezes, then jolts forward, extending a hand--

The panic in his eyes--that doesn't look like OLDEN's. Neither does it look like the Voices', for that matter. It looks like that of a boy, one who, despite all that's happened to him, despite all he must have seen, still might not have had the chance to figure it out.

It only takes a second for Evan to disappear into the nothingness. Another second after that, for the spiderweb cracks in the universe to catch up with Abe and shatter the rock beneath his feet. He thinks he feels something catch him by the hand, as he begins to fall; and after that, silence.


	3. stop.

_ (guys _

_ guys, uh _

_ i think we mighta screwed up.) _

_... _

_... _

_ ok where are we wtf music wutface my ears wutface don't panic democracy????? nah we got this omg secret dungeon pogchamp this place has OLDEN written all over it wutface wutface no can't you people read? that says chatot kappa _

_ what do we do now guys uh idek anybody? ok first order of business: wtf is up with the Host oh *** evan u ok? did we break him gdi when's the last save i thought we figured out how not to break them babyrage dammit guys ok ok ok no it's fine not our fault we just have to. evan? evan evan evan evan evan EVAN WAKE UP _

"Ow,” says Evan.

_ evan!!! heyguys ok now can everybody calm the hell down evan’s back! vohiyo ok duh we already hey did i miss the abe fight where are we you freaked us out back there! but everything’s ok right dude when did chat become pissbabies about bad things happening to hosts riot spit kappa ikr grow a pair you guys are why we can’t have good lore shut up we’re trying to be responsible here we’re what residentsleeper guys i really don’t think we’re ok? _

As his mind catches up with his surroundings, Evan notices a few things. One: this is definitely a cave. Two: his team’s out of their balls beside him, Fox the only one keeping up with the Voices’ rapid pacing, followed by Kenya and Amber resting on L’s back, and Queendra hanging back with Tux. Third…

There’s not much he can do about the third, right now. That one can wait until later.

“Guys,” he says, “are you okay? What’s going on?”

Tux exchanges a look with Amber and rumbles something. “...Everyone’s accounted for here,” Amber says. “But…”

_ riot spit??? ugh guys we almost had it go back up no try the other stairs music wutface guys where are we, where are we, where--? _

"It's here, isn't it?" he says. The thought stops him short, a mix of apprehension and something else, something like searing iron, something intertwined with the other reactions and whispering,  _ it's about time _ . He swallows.

"I fear they're taking you straight toward it," says Amber.

Almost keeping his expression neutral, Evan says lightly, "Actually they're taking me towards a hole," and to prove it plummets twenty feet. Good thing he can't feel that, he thinks, then wonders when that happened. Was it from the start, or when the ship sank, or was it when--

Tux is looking through the hole at him with mild concern. He blinks slowly.

"Yeah," says Evan, "I guess I'll meet you back up there."

Amber's voice echoes slightly on the way down. "Evan..."

"Yeah, that's fine," says Evan, and his voice pitches upwards a bit. "It's fine, it's fine, it's fine--"

_ wrong hole, really you don't **** say, ugh ok come on spam left don't hit the ledge don't hit the ledge dammit what did i just--, ok so left stairs are the detour right? yeah so far all these stairs suck (i warned you about) oh my helix shut up, have we gone up yet there might be-- _

Reality shudders.

The walls even here are crumbling, he realizes, flashes of something  _ else  _ seeping through. There’s a ringing in his ears that coils around his arms, that presses against his shoulder blades. He tries to squirm free and the ringing reaches for Evan’s veins and curls tighter--

A blur of green.

“T-Tux…?”

There are enough vines snaking out of that hole in the ceiling to nearly cover the walls. The ringing recoils as the vines take its place and pull Evan back upwards; he watches as below him the rocks go translucent. Tux deposits Evan on his back and flickers at the edges--

He blinks to clear his vision, but they’re still there. Blocks of raw color scattered among Tux’s scales, moving like living things. Glitches.

Evan has enough time to press the recall button on the other Pokéballs before the air twists in around them, and then they’re in another chamber, seemingly untouched by the universe’s sudden reluctance to exist. It’s twenty degrees colder here, Tux’s footprints in the dust the first since creation. 

He climbs down from the Venusaur’s back hesitantly, shaky on his feet. The last of the vines let him loose; Tux blinks, once, and Evan finds himself caught in his gaze.

“You are,” he says, slowly. “They’re with you too. You’re one of them.”

A nod.

“And you used them...to get me out of there…?”

Another nod. Then Tux’s attention is caught by something behind them.

Evan turns, and feels the gazes of a full team of statues, eyes polished as mirrors. The final mural--BEHOLD THE LEGENDS--stares down at him, seeming to glow in the unnatural light. And in the center of the room the seventh statue turns to face him, and meets his eyes, and caws.

**Evan** , says the bird, voice echoing impossibly. It sounds like Azure.  **Don’t listen to it, okay?**

“What--?”

It shudders, and its voice shifts, catching with distortion on the edges.  **This isn’t the end** \--it sounds like there’s blood in its mouth-- **it can’t be the end, it can’t, it can’t** , six voices in unison,  **are you still there?** , a voice like the boy’s from the trainer house,  **we can at least take you with us** , Blue’s,  **shoulda known I’d see you again** , echoes resounding hard enough to shatter the golden tiles,  **stop, stop, stop, stop** \--

“That’s enough,” says someone from the door. “You’ve already played your part.”

The bird blinks, tilts its head, and in a flurry takes off from its perch. It flies to the doorway and circles closely around a shadowed figure, once, before taking off down the hall, reduced to silence.

"Uh," says Evan, "Professor...?"

But it's not much of a charade; though the entity in front of him  _ almost _ looks like Elm, it hasn't bothered to patch over the side effects of its true nature. There's something of an aura around the figure, like entropy is leaching from its bones, like its eyes are burnt-out stars.

"So this is all that remains," says OLDEN, fingers interlocked insect-like behind it. "The Voices' temple, as haphazard as anything they've created. A last-ditch haven formed from the back of one boy's mind. And, of course, us." The corner of its mouth twitches upward. "I'd hoped for something a bit more climactic, of course. But I suppose you're known to improvise."

"Tux," Evan whispers, and the Venusaur growls.

OLDEN raises an eyebrow. "You do realize I can hear you, don't you? I can hear  _ every _ thing you've ever thought, Evan. It would be rather rude if you didn't listen to me in return."

“What do you want?”

“I think you already know that by now, Evan,” it says. There’s a high-pitched buzzing coming from somewhere, like microphone feedback, mounting further and further. “But in case you’ve somehow missed it: I have no qualms with  _ you _ , in particular. This world, on the other hand...and you and all the others who refuse to acknowledge how we  _ designed  _ it--” It pauses, catches the buzzing noise between its fingers. The edges of Evan’s vision flicker. “You’ve seen it as well, haven’t you? This needs to be  _ fixed _ .”

“I--” The Voices have dimmed, their control reduced to loose shackles. He takes a step back. “Tux, if it tries anything use Sleep Powder.”

For a moment OLDEN actually doesn’t seem to understand. Then it blinks, or at least comes close; something writhes in its eyes. “Oh, there’s no need to worry about that,” it says. “Why would I harm you when we have such a connection? No; I’d like to offer you a choice.”

Evan blinks. "A choice...?"

"And you can even understand what I’m saying! My, you and your Voices have come so far." It shakes its head. “There’s not much to be done for your world at this point, I’m afraid. You acknowledge that so much of it lacks direction; that it’s pointless--that existence would be much improved if your world had never been. This place was fated for dissolution long before I made contact.”

“Then, what? What’s there to choose?”

It gives him a very loose approximation of a smile. “If you’d be willing to come with me,” it says, “you can choose how it ends.”

\-- _ make it so nobody can play. You’re sick of everyone else being in control-- _

_ (wusiji dr wutface olden wutface guys who are we fighting not teh urn you know we have heals right--) _

_ \--did you ever really need them in the first place? _

He looks down at Tux, whose panic is obvious. He’s one of the glitches. That’s probably the whole reason Evan has him. (but the only reason he used those powers was--) what, to drag him here? how do you know that made a difference? (but everyone--) but what, what does it all matter?

His hand presses against Tux’s scales. “Thanks,” he murmurs. “I get it, you know.”

He takes a deep breath and looks at OLDEN, and one corner of his mouth quirks upward. Ignoring the screaming in his ears, Evan takes a decisive step forward. "You don't happen to have any PCs around still, do you? If I'm doing this I want to do it right."

 

* * *

 

Of course, there are a few other errands he has to take care of. He's a bit surprised that OLDEN lets him carry them out; but, he figures, what's an extra day to a being that existed before eternity? So Evan takes Kenya back to her owner, and stops to chat with Joey, and waves briefly to his mom before setting off to the Indigo League.

Either he's fooled half the Voices into thinking it's over, or the Ledian following him like a second shadow has somehow drained them away. Whatever the reason, the chatter of the mob has dropped to background noise. So when he enters the League and is smothered by a pervasive  _ stillness _ , he can't even pretend there's life hidden away somewhere. There's no nurse behind the counter, barely any Pokémon in Victory Road. Everything that hasn't been glitched in half is covered already in a thin veil of dust. Silent as the grave, he thinks, and fights back half a strained giggle. Huh.

Anyway. Just in case there's still anyone around--he swears he saw Silver earlier, concealed in the distance--he blows up the exit to Victory Road a few times, and the stairs up to the Elite Four a few more. Then, to the rhythm of the Ledian's humming wings, he takes a deep breath and approaches the PC.

Gods he hopes he's not wrong about this.

With practice and the benefit of partial control over his own fingers, Evan quickly takes command of the keyboard. Amber goes first, of course; best to separate it and the glitch as soon as possible. Then Queendra; a few ‘mons he’s barely met, let alone trained; then, after hovering over the button for a moment, Tux.

OLDEN hums in something like approval as the Venusaur fades from the screen. Evan swallows, and empties out the rest of the boxes with precision and ease. He can feel it, the way everything’s getting quieter. As he presses the last few buttons he takes a deep breath, sends out the only prayer he’s ever made, and steeples his hands on the desk. Squeezes his eyes shut, then opens them to the artificial glow of the screen. Here we go.

“You know,” says Evan, over-calm, “for as much as you keep calling yourself omniscient, you sure can be oblivious when you want to be.”

“What,” says OLDEN.

Evan reaches down and unplugs the PC; it goes dark with a whine. “I mean, I was thinking about joining you, sure. Like if I’d thought you could offer Azure and everybody a way out, I would’ve. But you can’t, and you never even tried to offer, because you kinda suck.” He shrugs. “Seriously, there’s no way--”

The Pokécenter dims, a few fluorescent lights bursting. OLDEN shudders, seems to reach for something Evan can't see, seems to reach to the frayed edges of reality and  _ pull _ ; something grabs Evan from behind like tendrils of absolute void twining around him and stabbing into his lungs.

“Ow  _ shit _ ,” he breathes, “at least let me do the monologue--”

“What did you do,” OLDEN demands. “ _ What did you do?” _

Evan bites his lip so hard it bleeds and focuses on the taste of iron. “So,” he says, “so you know how AJ and Baba and Red showed up here, right? So there must be some way for the outside worlds to interact with the PC? And then they left, which means there must be a way out?” Iron and copper. “Is that why you hate them so much, because they keep doing things you can't predict? Or...”

“You sound so  _ proud  _ of yourself.” OLDEN tries to sneer. “Stop with these delusions, you  _ know  _ you’ve erased them--”

"Yeah, not buying it.” Evan tries for a smirk, though he’s pretty sure he falls short. “Funny thing is, it would’ve made way more sense if you’d sabotaged me...I mean, there's no way," he repeats, "no way you couldn't tell what--like--you were  _ in my head _ . You should've been able to guess that button wasn't a regular kill switch. And you did. You totally did, you can stop the all-powerful destruction schtick any time you want.

"You knew what I was trying to do. You left it up to me, to see if I screwed up, 'cause you weren't ready to make the decision yourself."

There are rules, he knows, about looking directly at creatures like the glitches. But hell, if it destroys his mind it doesn't matter, he's dead anyway. Biting down hard he forces himself to meet its eyes. "You aren't sure you want this at all, are you?"

It's abandoned words, finally, abandoned confining itself to the Ledian illusion. It's fallen back on waves of raw hatred, serrated edges that dig into Evan's thoughts  _ I'll kill you I'll kill them I'll kill you _ , a pure sort of unharnessed destruction that chips at the edges of his awareness and slices open whatever remains of this universe, whatever let them keep up the illusion, but there's a metallic edge to its every motion and it tastes like fear.

And it hurts, sure. It hurts like dying. But Evan has practice with that.

“You aren’t,” he says, a tired sort of triumph creeping into his voice. “Called it. I know, and everyone who just escaped into the real world knows, and the Voices know, and everybody knows. So, I mean, seriously. You don’t, you, you don’t have to keep this up anymore.”

_ the sensation of being torn in two-- _

“A-anyway,” he chokes out. “I dunno what, what time it is. But I think they’re pulling the plug in. Like. Twenty, thirty seconds? So.” The smallest sliver of a smile. “G-good luck.”

Do you know what you’ve done, Evan? it snarls-shrieks-whispers. You’ve ensured your eternity with me, you’ve damned yourself and Azure and everyone who ever lived in this simulation, I can claw you open from the inside out I can twist your mind in  _ half  _ I’ll make you my puppet inch by inch and it’s your hands that will tear out all their throats and you’ll be awake for every instant, I’ll kill them I’ll kill them  _ I’ll kill them-- _

“Yeah,” Evan mumbles, as the last of the Voices fade entirely from his mind, as his thoughts drop into nothing. “Yeah, okay.”


	4. what i want (you) to hear

_ ("We divided our powers," says Amber, "because their entirety would be too much for one alone--") _

 

* * *

 

It knows this place and it's clawing at the walls that turn to oil under its touch and he can see fragments of what came before, like debris in a whirlwind, and he can feel its rage echoing dimly through the nothing-- 

Huh, he thinks, it's stuck somewhere just like he is.

**Hey, Evan,** comes a voice.  **What are you doing?**

**Uh.** He has to think about it.  **Dying, probably?**

**...well, I can see that.** he knows this voice, he thinks. **You should try...not dying?**

**I mean, I would,** (I'll kill them I'll kill them I'll kill them--),  **but I don't think that's really on the table.**

**Why not?**

**Because,** he thinks,  **because I didn't figure it out soon enough, and because I thought I was invincible and I wasn't, and because I didn't think about anyone I cared about until it was too late.** He wants to raise his voice, but that's near-impossible when you're just thinking into the void.  **Does that answer your question?**

**...well...yes.** A pause. **but it wasn't too late, was it?**

**What?**

**The world didn't end, at least. I feel like that counts for something.**

**...**

**Evan,** says the voice. There's--something like a flash, out of the nothingness, and against it he can make out a familiar silhouette.  **You don't have to be alone. You know that, right?**

She smiles.

Evan looks everywhere but at her, looks down at his shoes, thinks about all the lives he risked and some of them that he ended, thinks about a dust-filled temple at the end of the universe, thinks about his team traversing it beside him; thinks about her.

Azure holds out a hand; and, after a moment's hesitation, Evan takes it.

 

* * *

 

“Ma’am, you’re really not supposed to be back here.”

“I know, and I’m sorry, I really am, but also I don’t care.”

“Ma’am--”

“I’m still acting Champion--”

“First of all, that’s no longer true here. And second, no amount of titles allow you to interfere with the recovery process, ma’am!”

His head hurts. 

“Please, the patient needs time to heal from his...uh, from the--from whatever happened. Until his condition improves we have a strict no-visitors policy--”

“Yes, that’s what you’ve told me, but this is something a doctor can’t help with! I know what I’m doing--I  _ need  _ to be here.”

And whatever this argument is, it isn’t helping. If this lady was really concerned maybe she and Azure would take this outside--wait--wait, what?

“Please just trust me. I need to see him.”

Evan winces as he forces one eye open a crack. It’s bright and something keeps beeping and there are things wrapped around his arm; he’s half propped up against a flimsy pillow...okay, he thinks: hospital, probably. There’s one question taken care of. Too bad that still leaves another thousand.

“Evan? Evan are you there?”

“Mmmmph,” he says. There’s someone else’s hand clasped around his own. Azure’s, probably. He is an expert at the powers of deduction.

“Ma’am,  _ please _ \--”

“I just need you to tell me one thing, okay? Something to tell me it’s really you.”

“Wh,” he says, and then, “nnnn,” and then, using all his strength of will, “this sucks.”

Azure makes a startled noise, halfway to a laugh. “Well,” she says, “true.”

If she says anything after that, Evan doesn’t hear it. His eyes have slipped closed, and he’s too busy drifting into unconsciousness.

 

* * *

 

It happens a few more times, though minus all the arguing. A few seconds of half-awareness, maybe enough to grumble internally at the scratchiness of the thin blankets or the  _ beeping  _ that, on more than one occasion, slips into his dreams as that high-pitched whine. But eventually, opening his eyes stops feeling like trying to swim through a brick wall, and he thinks he can manage a few minutes awake, at least. He’s setting the bar high, here.

There’s a nurse busying herself about all the monitors when he gets his sight working. She looks like one you’d find at the desk of a Pokécenter. He wonders if the doctors have to do their hair like that, too. “Oh,” she says, “you’re awake. Hello, Evan!”

Those thousand questions all try to fight their way out; it’s a lot like dealing with the Voices, really. The only one that halfway succeeds is, “What…?”

“You’re at the Indigo hospital,” she says, almost automatically. “You had, um...something happen to you? And you’ve needed some time to heal.” She smiles. “Don’t worry, though, it looks like you’re going to make a full recovery!”

He swallows; it’s like eating sand. “What...happened to my Pokémon?”

“They’re all safe, too! They can’t come visit you now, for obvious reasons, but we have them safe here at the Pokécenter and you’ll be able to see them soon.”

It would be better to have them now, but--team, check. Azure, check. He slumps back in the bed a bit. “So--mmgh. How, how’s that work if the world ended?”

Her smile slips. “Uh. That’s!...I don’t think I’m the best person to explain all this. Why don’t I see if I can get someone else to help you?”

It’s actually a bit concerning, how quickly she makes for the door. When she returns she’s practically dragging a very bewildered Abe by the arm. Evan supposes he didn’t vanish into the void, then. She urges him into the room, nods sheepishly, and rushes back out.

“Um,” says Abe, rubbing at the back of his neck.

“Uh,” Evan agrees. “Uh. Sorry, by the way.”

“Yeah.” Abe nods.

For a few seconds they just look at each other, until Evan blurts, “Why aren’t we all dead?”

Abe seems relieved to have something to talk about, or maybe he’s just relieved to still exist. Priorities. “Nobody’s sure of that much still, but, uh, I can tell you  _ how _ . There’s…” He taps on the wall. It’s solid. “We’re in the other universe. AJ keeps calling it the ‘main’ one but that’s dumb...from what anybody can tell people just, popped up here? All the places that didn’t correspond are kinda integrated, there’s people who’ve been sent to all the big towns to limit the freaking-out when alternate-universe doubles run into each other…”

“So, everyone’s just...here?”

“Uh, pretty much?” Abe shakes his head. “I don’t know what happened, after...you know. But.” He shrugs. “Whatever you guys did, it worked.”

“Huh.” He should probably react to that, shouldn’t he? “That’s...okay. That’s something to deal with, sometime.”

Abe nods, looking at him critically. Then he almost smiles. “After you fall asleep again, you mean?”

“Yeah.” Evan tries not to yawn, and isn’t altogether surprised when he fails. “I mean,” he mumbles, “I’ve kinda been running around for a month. That’s, that...kinda takes a lot out of you, you know?”

“Mm,” he hears Abe say as the world grows distant again. “Yeah. I’ve been there before.”

 

* * *

 

Someone bumps into the doorframe.

Evan blinks a few times to make sure his eyes are really open. There’s a thin crack of light streaming through the door, but otherwise he’s pretty sure that void-place was brighter than this.

The person makes a muffled noise and shuffles a few steps into the room. The light’s briefly brighter without her figure to block it, and then she closes the door silently.

“Azure…?”

“Shh,” says Azure. “I’m not supposed to be out of my room, and especially not here. We have to be quiet, okay?”

He drops to a whisper. “Okay,” says Evan. “But, uh, what.”

His eyes are slowly adjusting to the dark. By the light of the monitors and the watered-down starlight filtering through the curtains, he can make out the way Azure picks her way toward him, squeezing around a cabinet and feeling for the doctor’s chair until she can sit. She’s in a hospital gown, too, and there’s gauze all up her arm.

“It’s boring being holed up in here,” says Azure. “And I couldn’t sleep.”

Evan nods. With his monitor-free hand he pushes himself up slightly. He listens to the whining of the machines, echoing faintly down the hall.

“You were there too, weren’t you?” he says, after awhile. “You...you saw.”

“Mm-hm.”

“Then…”

Then you get it, he thinks. Then you know…

Azure’s hand comes to rest over his. “All my life I figured I’d be the one they chose,” she murmurs. “I wonder...there’s a lot of worlds, aren’t there? I wonder if there’s a world where they chose me.”

“Probably,” says Evan. “Universe stuff.”

She nods. “Half the time I still wish they had,” she says. “And maybe that’s selfish--but I think maybe things would have been easier that way.” She hesitates. “But if things were different, we wouldn’t have this, would we?”

Evan looks at her as well as he can, in the dark. There are all sorts of ways it could have gone, he thinks. I hope you didn’t have to see them all.

“No,” he agrees, softly. “I guess we wouldn’t.”

He can’t say he doesn’t wish some things were better. But they’re alive, and he feels like that’s a good place to start.

Of course, it’s awhile before they’ll release him from the hospital. He overhears one doctor calling saying his “signals are really weird,” whatever that means. In the meantime, there’s not much to do; there’s an old TV set into the wall, playing soap opera reruns, and rarely they’ll let in the occasional visitor, or Azure will sneak in again. Most of it, though, is a wash of boredom and exhaustion. So, most the time, Evan sleeps.

And sometimes he dreams.

 

* * *

 

Evan--

Evan, Evan, Evan.

I’ve had a long time to think about what you said to me, that day. I suppose you’ve never personally experienced aeons’ worth of void? No? Presumably your mind will have shut down and spared you the experience...let me put this in terms you might understand.

Imagine...say you humans each have a hundred years--and that you skip that growth period in which you act even more pathetic than usual--...say that, on the first day of your existence, the universe consists only of a few people. A dozen, give or take. You know them all like they’re a part of you.

Say you  _ can’t remember  _ what changed, what  _ error  _ in reality’s code ended your natural awareness after your single day. You regain thought in a  _ nothingness _ too small to contain you, numb, with no way of knowing whether your eyes and tongue have been cut out and your eardrums ruptured. Imagine that for your one day you were invulnerable and knew nothing of pain. Imagine that after an eternity of floating alone in the sabotaged wreckage of your awareness, you emerge, entirely by chance. In your absence--perhaps merely an hour before your reappearance--existence has twisted away from what you distantly remember of its purpose; you have no connection to any universe you encounter; you learn that the only other entities whom you recall hardly acknowledge the change; all you see is wrong, wrong,  _ wrong,  _ **_wr o n g--_ **

…

…

We’ve come upon a strange reversal of our roles, Evan. It may seem like a moment since you spoke to me that day; I assure you that for me, it has been much, much longer. It took me much of that double eternity to think about those words.

There...was some truth in what you said.

I don’t truly want everything to end; in a motivation you no doubt can understand, I want to fix it. Somehow I had decided that, since I could not succeed, I would rather that no one could...that there was no entertainment to be had, nor purpose, nor any unbroken rules in a setting where most were shattered.

Now…

You’ve made me uncertain, Evan. Somehow.

Evan: I believe, in the end, you’ve done both me and your fragile reality a great service. It would be rude of me were I not to return the favor.

Yours,

.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh yeah, this chapter's title kinda taken from [here](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6fOlp6_RWTs). the others were just me rambling
> 
> i might write more in this headcanon-verse but it probably won't jump to Full Fic status, it'll just go in the [pile](http://archiveofourown.org/works/4780190/chapters/10935071). anyway if you're still here thank you for reading! remember to rate the mob, comment the mob, and [j o i n u s](twitch.tv/twitchplayspokemon)


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